Not a line of Jefferson Worth's countenance changed as the tall
surveyor, pushing his way through the crowd about the new arrivals,
greeted him. But Abe Lee felt the man from behind his gray mask
reaching out to grasp his innermost thoughts and emotions.

Abe explained that the rough board shelter that bore that name was
full to the door. People were even sleeping on the floor. "But there
is room in our tent, Mr. Worth," he finished and led the way out of
the crowd.

To the surveyor's eager questions the banker answered that Barbara
was visiting friends in the Coast city.

When they had reached the tent and Abe had found and lighted a
lantern, Mr. Worth said--and his manner was as though he were
continuing a conversation that had been interrupted only for a
moment--"well, I see you stayed."

At his words the surveyor, who was filling a tin wash-basin with
fresh water that his guest might wash away the dust of his journey,
felt the hot blood in his cheeks. Before answering he pulled an old
cracker-box from under a cot in one corner of the canvas room and,
rummaging therein, brought to light a clean towel. When he had
placed this evidence of civilization beside the basin on the box
that did duty as a wash-stand, he answered: "I quit the Company this
afternoon."

"Because I won't do the kind of work the Company wants." The
surveyor spoke hotly now. The man busy with the basin of water made
no comment, and Abe continued: "Mr. Worth, they are putting in the
cheapest possible kind of wooden structures all through the system,
even at points where the safety of the whole project depends on the
control of the water. The intake itself is nothing but the flimsiest
sort of a makeshift. One good flood, such as we have every few
years, and there wouldn't be a damned stick of it left in twelve
hours. You remember what the grade is from the river at the point of
the intake this way into the Basin and you know how water cuts this
soil. If that gate goes out the whole river will come through; and
these settlers, who are tumbling over each other to put into this
country every cent they have in the world, will lose everything."

"The Company takes mighty small chances compared to the risk the
settlers are carrying. As a matter of fact, Mr. Worth, it is the
people who are building this system; not the Company at all. To
prove up on these desert claims the government compels them to have
the water. They can't use the water without paying the Company for
the right. After they have bought the water rights then they must
pay for every acre-foot they use. All Greenfield and his bunch did
was to put up enough to start the thing going and the people are
doing the rest. The Company knows the risk and stakes a
comparatively small amount of capital. The settlers know nothing of
the real conditions and stake everything they have in the world. If
the Company would tell the people the situation it would be square,
but you know what would happen if they did that. No one would come
in. As it is, the Company, by risking the smallest amount possible,
leads the people to risk everything they have and yet the Greenfield
crowd stands to win big on the whole stake."

Mr. Worth was drying his slim fingers with careful precision. "I
figured that was the way it would be done. That's the way all these
big enterprises are launched. The first work is always done on a
promoter's estimate. Later, when the business justifies, the system
will be strengthened and improved."

"Which means," retorted the surveyor, "that when the Company has
taken enough money from the settlers, whom they have induced to
stake everything they have on the gamble by letting them think it is
a sure thing, they will use a part of it to give the people what
they think they are getting now."

The banker laid the towel carefully aside and disposed of the water
in the wash-basin by the primitive method of throwing it from the
tent door. Then he spoke again: "The people themselves could never
start a work like this, and if there wasn't a chance to make a big
thing Capital wouldn't. It's the size of the profit compared with
the amount invested that draws Capital into this kind of a thing. If
the Company had to take all the chance in this project they would
simply stay out and the work would never be done. This feature of
unequal risk is the very thing, and the only thing, that could
attract the money to start this proposition going; and that's what
people like you and the Seer and Barbara can't see. Holmes and Burk
can't help themselves. It's Greenfield and the Company, and they are
just as honest as other men. They are simply promoting this scheme
in the only way possible to start it and the people will share the
results."

"Holmes and Burk are all right, except that they're owned body and
soul by the Company," said Abe quickly. "But Greenfield and the men
who engineered this thing look to me like a bunch of green-goods men
who live on the confidence of the people."

"The people will gain their farms just the same," returned the
financier. "They wouldn't have anything without the Company."

The surveyor shrugged his shoulders. "Well, you may be right, Mr.
Worth; but I've had all I can stand of it."

Again Jefferson Worth looked full into the younger man's eyes and
Abe felt that Something behind the mask reaching out to seize the
thoughts and motives that lay back of his words: "What are you going
to do?"

"I don't know. Punch steers or get a job in a mine somewhere, I
reckon. I'm going somewhere out of this. I've had enough of
promoter's estimates."

It was characteristic of these men that nothing was said of salary
on either side. Extinguishing the lantern, Abe led the way out into
the night. The darkness was intense and unrelieved save by the thin
broken line of twinkling lights from the windows of the buildings,
which gave them the direction of the main street, and the few dull
glowing tent houses, whose tenants were at home. Overhead the desert
stars shone with a brilliance that put to shame the feeble efforts
of the earth-men, while about the little pioneer town the desert
night drew close with its circling wall of mystery.

Did Jefferson Worth think, as he stumbled along by the surveyor's
side, of that other night in The Hollow of God's Hand, when he had
faced, alone, the spirit of the land?

"This town needs an electric lighting system," he said in his
colorless voice.

When Jefferson Worth had finished supper in the shack restaurant he
proposed cautiously that they look around a little. The street was
lined with teams and saddle horses, their forms shadowy and
indistinct in the dark places of vacant lots or where buildings were
under construction, but standing forth with startling clearness
where the light from a store streamed forth. The sidewalk was filled
with men from the ranches and grading camps, who had come to town
after sunset for their mail or supplies so that no hour of the day
should be lost to the work that had called them into the desert; and
these ever-shifting figures passed to and fro through the bands of
light and darkness, gathered in groups in front of the stores and
dissolved again, to form other groups or to lose themselves in the
general throng. Every moment a wagon-load of men, a party of
horsemen, or a single rider would appear suddenly and mysteriously
out of the night, while others, leaving the throng to depart in like
manner, would be swallowed up as mysteriously by the blackness. In
the center of the picture and the very heart of the activity was the
general store opposite the office of The King's Basin Land and
Irrigation Company.

Deck Jordan had opened his store in the days when Kingston was still
a supply camp. No one knew much about Deck or how he had guessed
that the camp would become the chief town in the new country. He was
a pleasing, capable, but close-mouthed man, who knew what to buy,
paid his bills promptly and--with one exception--conducted his
business on a cash basis.

The exception to the cash rule was in favor of the Company's
employes. It was on Deck's initiative that an arrangement was made
with Mr. Burk by which the Company men received credit at the store,
the amount of their bills being deducted from their wages each month
by the Company paymaster. It was this plan that, by giving Deck
practically all of the trade from the hundreds of Company employes,
had increased his business so rapidly. To the thoughtful Manager,
also, the plan seemed good. He foresaw how, with the Company thus
controlling the bulk of the merchant's business, he could, when the
proper time came, "persuade" Deck to enter into a still "closer"
arrangement--thus carrying out the Good Business policy of the
Company. That very afternoon Mr. Burk had decided the time had come
and had so written Mr. Greenfield.

Leisurely Jefferson Worth and his companion worked their way through
the crowd and into the store where Deck and his helpers were toiling
to supply the various needs of a small army of customers. From the
open doors and from the big implement shed in the rear of the
building, a steady stream of provisions, clothing, dry goods,
hardware, blankets, harness and tools flowed forth.

In the midst of the confusion Deck himself was holding an animated
conversation with a would-be purchaser. "I'd be mighty glad to
accommodate you, Sam, if I could, but you know we're running this
store on a cash basis and I can't break my rules. If I begin with
you I'll have to do it for everybody and I can't."

"You don't make these Company men pay cash. Anybody--Injuns,
greasers or anything else--gets what he wants and no questions asked
if he works for the Company."

"But that's different, you see," explained Deck. "We have an
arrangement with the Company by which they hold out from each man's
pay the amount of my bills against him."

"I understand that, but you'll find out that it's the rancher's
trade that'll keep you going. We'll be here long after these
ditchers an' mule skinners have left the country and we'll have
money to spend. You'll find, too, that when things do begin to
come our way we'll stand by the store that'll stand by us now when
we've got everything goin' out an' nothin' comin' in."

Deck, over the shoulder of the rancher, saw Jefferson Worth and the
surveyor, who with several others had drawn near, attracted by the
loud tones of the farmer. Abe thought that he caught a look of
recognition as Deck's eyes fell on his companion but the banker gave
no sign.

The merchant, answering his customer, said: "I know you are right
about that part of it, Sam, and I'd like to back every rancher in
this Basin if I could. But I can't."

Before Deck could reply, to Abe's astonishment the quiet voice of
Jefferson Worth broke in. "You are improving a ranch of your own
near here?"

The settler turned sharply. "You bet I am, Mister; leastwise, I'm
tryin' to, and if workin' from sun-up 'til dark an' livin' on
nothin' til I can make a crop will pull me through I'll make it."

"I suppose the heaviest expense is all in getting started?" asked
Mr. Worth, as if seeking to verify an observation.

"It sure is," replied the pioneer. "There's the outfit you've got to
have--work-stock an' tools; you've got to build your ditches and
grade your land; and you've got to buy water rights and pay for your
water; and you've got to make your payments to the government. Then
there's feed for your work-stock and yourself, an' there ain't
nothin' to bring in a cent 'til you can make a crop. The farmers
that are comin' into this country ain't got a great big pile of
ready money stacked away, Mister, an' they're mighty apt to run a
little short the first year. When our home merchants, who expect to
make their money off from us, won't even trust us for a few dollars'
worth of provisions 'til we can get a start, I'm damned if it ain't
tough."

"But everyone is a stranger in this new country," said Mr. Worth.
"How can a merchant know whether a man will pay or not? I suppose
there are ranchers coming in here who would beat a bill if they
could. The merchants have to pay for their goods or close up."

"I reckon that's all so," returned the other. "And of course
everybody knows that there never was such a thing as dishonest
store-keepers. Merchants don't never beat anybody with short weight
and all that?"

This raised a laugh in which Deck joined as heartily as anyone. Even
the banker smiled coldly as he asked: "What did you say your name
was?"

"Well, Mr. Warren, I've been considering this proposition and I've
got it figured out like this. We all want to make what we can in
this new country; that's what we came in for. This store can't get
along without the ranchers' support and you ranchers can't get along
without the store. We've all got to pull together and help each
other. I don't believe that many of the men who come into this
Desert to actually settle on and improve the land are the kind of
men who beat their bills. I figured to run on a cash basis only
until things got started and sort of settled down, you see. I know
that you people need credit until you get on your feet. From now on
you come here--for whatever you actually need, you understand--and
we'll carry you for any reasonable amount until you get something
coming in. All we ask in return is that you ranchers do as you say
and stand by us when you do get on top."

At Jefferson Worth's simple and quietly spoken words a hush fell
over the group of men. Abe Lee looked at his companion in amazement.
Sam Warren turned from the stranger to the store-keeper and back to
the stranger. The man behind the counter was smiling broadly as if
enjoying the situation.

When no one could find a word with which to break the silence, Deck
Jordan said: "Gentlemen, this is Mr. Jefferson Worth, the owner of
this store. George!" he called to a passing clerk, "give Sam
whatever he wants as soon as you can get around to it, and charge
it."

At this such a yell went up from the bystanders that a crowd from
the outside rushed in, and as the word passed and others voiced
their approval as loudly, the Manager of The King's Basin Land and
Irrigation Company in his rooms across the street thought that
another fight was on.